


Can't Buy Me Love

by Boschling



Series: Light It Up [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22715020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boschling/pseuds/Boschling
Summary: Stannis is proposing to Melisandre and he just wants everything to be perfect. Even if that means getting her deadbeat brother's blessing. Which requires satisfying his roommate's impossibly high standards. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Beric Dondarrion/Thoros of Myr, Melisandre of Asshai/Stannis Baratheon, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Light It Up [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633588
Comments: 34
Kudos: 50





	Can't Buy Me Love

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is set ten years after my last fic, Light the Way! But don't worry, you don't need to read a 275,000 word fic to understand what's going on. All you need to know that's different is that in this universe, Thoros is Melisandre's older brother. Everything else you'll pick up along the way. Happy Valentine's Day :)

Stannis stared at the small gold band in his hand. Simple, elegant, but gods it felt heavy. Was it supposed to feel this heavy? How would she even be able to lift her hand when she was wearing it? Was it too heavy? Was there something wrong with it?? He’d been so sure in the store but now.... Stannis ran a hand through his rapidly thinning black hair in agitation. No, he definitely needed a second opinion.

Stannis pressed the intercom buzzer on his desk.

“Get me Mr. Seaworth,” he told his secretary brusquely.

Ever since his parents’ unexpected deaths two years earlier (airplane crash, yes it was all very sad, thank you for the condolences), Stannis had been feeling a little antsy. Like everyone he loved might be taken from him at any moment. Davos had suggested that he should probably see a therapist, but Stormsend Shipping didn’t run itself. Anyway, it was fine, things were fine. 

But if there was a silver lining, it was that it had given him the courage to sit down with Melisandre and have a serious conversation about their future. And they had agreed, seven months, two weeks and four days ago, that neither of them could imagine a world without the other and it probably made sense to get married.

Only it had taken an infuriatingly long time to find the perfect ring, and Stannis had resigned himself to Melisandre’s look of disappointment every time an unusually fancy dinner or important holiday came and went with no proposal.

Now that he had the ring—he just needed Davos to confirm that this ring wasn’t too heavy, that it was indeed the same ring he had found yesterday and seen the salesman put into the little box and hand to him, that there wasn’t some international cabal of jewel smugglers running around and swapping rings—now that he had the ring, everything would be perfect. He had made reservations at Crossroads Inn for Friday night, and then they would walk out to the cliffs and he could propose to her the same way that they had shared so many special moments together.

“Stannis?” Davos, Stannis’ best friend since middle school, poked his head into the office. Medium height, medium build, brown hair, green eyes, quiet and unassuming... Davos was almost aggressively unremarkable. Stannis had seen people who had known him since high school walk by without a second glance. Their loss—Davos was the most loyal, practical, intelligent and honorable friend anyone could ask for.

“Are you sure this is the right ring?”

“Seven hells, YES!!!” Davos groaned. “We have gone to every jewelry store in King’s Landing! I am going to claw out my eyes if I have to consider the cut and clarity of one more diamond!”

Well, maybe he was a touch melodramatic.

“You’re right,” Stannis conceded, staring at it more closely. “I just feel like I’m forgetting something, like something’s missing.”

“I confirmed your reservation, I took your car to be serviced last week...”

“I called the photographer...”

“I called the backup photographer...”

“I called Robert, Renly, Thoros and Beric...” Stannis paused, forehead creasing.

“What?” Davos said suspiciously.

“I realized what I forgot to do!”

“Eh?”

“I forgot to ask Melisandre’s family for their blessing!”

Davos stared and rubbed his temples.

“You want to hunt down her parents, whereabouts unknown, who abandoned her ten years ago, and ask for their blessing?!”

“Don’t be silly Davos,” Stannis rolled his eyes. “That would be ridiculous. I want us to get into the car and drive to the Riverlands and ask Thoros for his blessing.”

Davos ground his teeth.

“And calling him would be...?”

“Out of the question. This is an important tradition! It’s only three hours if we leave now and beat the traffic.”

It turned out it was more like three and a half hours, but Stannis was buoyed by the thought of having someone tell him that this was okay, that he could marry Melisandre and he wouldn’t completely screw this up. Because every new stage in their relationship they had more or less slid into by accident. Friends, dating, living together... it happened so organically. But marriage was different! It wasn’t offering to let your girlfriend stay in your apartment while she found a place and then waking up six months later and realizing you should probably make her a set of keys. There were marriage licenses to be purchased and wedding invitations to send! And the only times he ever set out to do anything deliberately with Melisandre, he’d managed to totally screw them up. Like when they’d been friends and he’d refused to kiss her because he waiting for the right moment. She’d thought he didn’t like her. Or when they were seeing each other but not actually going on official dates. He’d dragged her on quite possibly the worst first date of all time. 

Stannis and Davos finally pulled up at the apartment, a dismally sketchy neighborhood.

“I think I should probably stay with the car,” Davos said skeptically, eyeing a group of kids across the street.

“Right,” Stannis said uncertainly. Davos sighed at his expression.

“You don’t need my help. You’ve set up this silly quest for yourself to make yourself feel like you deserve Mel even though you’ve been dating for ten years and she adores you. So have at it. Get Thoros’ blessing and be quick about it so we can leave before it gets dark.”

Stannis scowled, but walked over to the building. The door was ostensibly locked but a hard kick forced it open. Then he slowly plodded up the stairs.

It was fine. Thoros might not love him, but he certainly didn’t hate him. And he knew Stannis was proposing because Stannis had already invited him to the surprise party Friday night. And Thoros had responded with an emoji of beers clinking. So it was probably fine.

Stannis finally got to landing that said “Dondarrion/Asshai” in small neat lettering that had to be Beric’s. He knocked sharply. And then again. And then again.

On maybe the twentieth knock, the door opened the inch allowed by the security chain, and Stannis saw Thoros glaring out.

“Whoever you are FUCK OFF!” He shouted, sounding a little out of breath.

“Thoros,” Stannis said formally. Melisandre’s brother’s glare focused on him.

“Stannis. Not a great time. You couldn’t have called?”

Stannis really wished that Davos hadn’t stayed in the car.

“Um no, sorry, it’s about Melisandre?”

The door immediately opened. Thoros was barefoot and wearing boxers and an inside out t-shirt. Stannis, still wearing his suit from the office, felt a smidge overdressed.

“Shit what happened?! Is she okay?!” Thoros demanded.

“No she’s fine—“

“Somethings wrong with Mel?!” Beric called from the bedroom.

“No—“

“Yeah!” Thoros shouted over him. 

“NO!” Stannis snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with her! We’re getting engaged!”

Thoros blinked.

“Yeah Friday, I know,” he said.

Beric hopped into the room, trying to lace a shoe and button his shirt at the same time, dark blond hair rumpled and eye patch askew.

“I’m ready, where are we going, the hospital? You shouldn’t have left her, Stannis, do we need to bring anything? You should have called us, is there something wrong with your phone—“

“THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH MELISANDRE!” Stannis shouted over him.

Beric looked at Thoros. Thoros rolled his eyes. Beric collapsed into an arm chair sulkily.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Stannis tried to get the conversation back on the right track. “I wanted to ask you,” he turned to Thoros, “if I can marry her.”

“Huh?” Thoros scratched his head behind the top knot. His hair was a darker red than Melisandre’s, a perpetually wild and disheveled mess, and though they both had blue eyes as well, Stannis still found it mildly incredible that they were related.

“Can I marry Melisandre?” Stannis repeated slowly. 

“Like are you physically able to? I wasn’t aware that was... um... an issue?” Thoros began hesitantly.

Stannis realized the misunderstanding and felt his face start to flush uncomfortably. Thankfully, Beric stepped in.

“I think he’s asking if you object to the marriage,” Beric prompted. 

“What? I don’t care, go forth and multiply,” Thoros flapped a hand. “I mean assuming you...”

“It’s not an issue,” Stannis squeaked furiously. He paused, took a breath, forced his voice deeper.

“I want your blessing.”

Thoros looked bewildered and glanced at Beric for interpretation. Stannis also looked at Beric hopefully, who so far had been much easier to deal with.

To his surprise, Beric had crossed his arms and was looking back, good eye narrowed appraisingly.

“What is your five year plan?” Beric suddenly demanded.

“Excuse me?” Stannis squawked. He suddenly flashed on an unpleasant investor’s meeting from a month ago where he had been asked a similar question. He wondered if Beric would take an answer about emerging trends in Essosi shipping.

“Melisandre is entering residency in two years. Are you going to be moving to join her?”

“I’m not...” Stannis stammered. Melisandre hadn’t even decided on a specialty yet!

“Well it seems like you’re rather chained to King’s Landing. That’s where Stormsend’s headquarters is, isn’t it?” Beric leaned forward.

“You know I don’t think Melisandre would approve of this venture,” Thoros began thoughtfully.

“Do you want children?”

“Yes!” Stannis crossed his arms defiantly. 

“Does she?”

“I think she would describe it as a broken vestige of a patriarchal system where women were sold like chattel,” Thoros continued.

“Yes!” Stannis scowled at Beric. This at least they had talked about.

“Well how many? When? Will it be when she’s in residency gods know where?”

“So if you insist on asking for my blessing...”

“I will talk to her about it!” Stannis huffed. Geez, what was with the interrogation?! Beric was being completely ridiculous!

“...my price is two chickens.”

Beric and Stannis stared at Thoros, and Stannis decided to stick with the five year plan.

“How’d it go?” Davos asked, as soon as Stannis got back to the car and collapsed into the driver’s seat. 

“Indescribably awful,” Stannis groaned.

“It can’t have been that bad. I thought he might beat you up.”

“And you let me go in by myself?!” Stannis gave him an exasperated look.

“I only thought he MIGHT. What did Thoros say?”

“Ugh nothing that made any sense. Beric wants to know what my five year plan is. Do you have a five year plan?”

Davos frowned.

“What’s a five year plan?”

“Like when are you proposing to Marya? How many children are you having? When will you have them? Where do you see yourself living long term.”

Davos fidgeted uncomfortably.

“...do I need a five-year plan?”

“According to Beric!”

“I take your point. I think it would be best for everyone if I came in next time.”

“I told you so,” said Stannis, just a trifle snippily, and it was a testament to their friendship that Davos waited until he thought Stannis wasn’t looking to roll his eyes.

By the time Stannis got home, it was long past dinner time, and he was unsurprised to see some boxes of Yi Ti, half eaten, waiting for him on the kitchen counter. He considered himself an average cook (what were recipes after all but instructions he could execute down to the letter), but Melisandre was more of a take out person.

Speaking of which...

“Bad day at work?” Melisandre lifted her head from the couch where she had been lying and watching tv. Even in her yoga pants and an oversized shirt that was almost certainly his, Stannis felt his breath catch.

“You could say that,” he managed, as he watched her turn off the television and walk over to him, her curtain of silky red hair shining in the light, and even as she pressed her lips against his, it seemed utterly bewildering that he had been so lucky.

“Well have some sticky rice, I’ve been slaving all day over it,” Melisandre smiled, her light blue eyes sparkling as she made the same joke she always did.

“It would be a shame to neglect all your hard work,” Stannis raised an eyebrow. He dumped the remaining boxes into a bowl and stuck it in the microwave. “What are we watching?”

“Oh just some legal drama,” Melisandre shrugged. “The knight prosecutor is trying to prove that the witness on the stand is lying—it’s easy to pick up as you go.”

The microwave chirped and Stannis collected his bowl, settling down on the sofa next to her. Melisandre hit play.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” the protagonist was pacing, looking frightfully grave. “The man you see before you is a criminal, a liar and an oath breaker...” Stannis shifted uncomfortably.

Knight prosecutor. Beric was a knight prosecutor in the Riverlands. Stannis scowled.

“So I was thinking,” he began. Melisandre paused the show and turned toward him, her usual half smile in place, and he swallowed to quell his nerves.

“Have you given any thought to what happens if your residency is somewhere far from King’s Landing?” Stannis asked.

Melisandre frowned.

“I don’t see why it would be. There are so many good hospitals right here, and I’ve really been leaning toward emergency medicine—there’s no better place to be for that than King’s Landing.”

“Okay, but what if it was?” Stannis pressed.

“It’s for three years. We’ve been together for ten. We would figure out how to make it work... You could visit on weekends—doesn’t your company have a work remotely policy?” 

Stannis felt simultaneously relieved about her calmness and irritated at Beric for freaking him out.

“Yes, we do. And we would make it work,” Stannis shook his head at himself. Melisandre pushed play, setting the remote back on the coffee table.

The knight prosecutor was in the midst of slowly dismantling the witness’ testimony. Stannis squirmed. Tall and lanky, he even looked a bit like Beric. But with two eyes of course.

“And another thing!” The prosecutor began triumphantly. Oh fuck. There was another thing. Stannis paused the show.

“How many kids do you want?” He demanded abruptly.

“Excuse me?” Melisandre arched an eyebrow.

“Like I know we said we’d have kids, but how many? When? While you’re in residency? How would that even work? Have you considered the impact on your career?”

“Stannis,” Melisandre began sweetly. “If you pause my show again to ask me existential questions, the answer will be irrelevant because they won’t be with you.”

“So I should put you down for one?” Stannis scratched his head.

Melisandre growled.

“I’ll put you down for one,” Stannis pressed play so she would stop glaring at him.

“And then she said seven! How are we going to feed seven kids?!” Davos ran a hand through his hair fretfully. 

Stannis hummed an acknowledgement, keeping his eye on the traffic. Was there really any good time to get to the Riverlands? They had left an hour later this time, but it did not appear to be an improvement.

“Where are they going to sleep? Stacked on top of each other like sardines?!”

Stannis carefully signaled and then pulled into another lane that was moving incrementally faster. Immediately that lane ground to a halt.

“At that point why not go for twelve? Get a discount on items by the dozen?!”

Stannis let his head drop against the steering wheel, his forehead hitting the car horn with a full squeak.

“Don’t honk, Stannis, there’s no where for them to go,” Davos said absently.

Another three hours later, they pulled up to the same neighborhood that appeared to be teetering on the brink of abject poverty as before. If anything it had taken the tiniest step toward the edge. There appeared to be a fire in a steel drum further down the road.

At least this time he had Davos, Stannis consoled himself. Davos was good with people. Davos would talk to Beric and then Beric would talk to Thoros and then Stannis could get his blessing and be on his way. After all, he was supposed to propose in two days.

Stannis began to knock, and knock. His brow furrowed. What was that thudding sound? He knocked louder to be heard over the thudding sound. The thudding sound stopped.

When the door did not immediately open, Stannis started knocking again, with the patience of someone who had created a five year plan and would not be denied an audience. He did wish they would invest in a buzzer though.

Finally, the door opened. It was Beric. Stannis considered telling him that his shirt had been buttoned one button off. It was unlike the man to be anything but well dressed.

“Why don’t you ever call?” Beric grumbled.

Stannis raised an eyebrow. It was also unlike the man to be anything but courteous.

“What was that sound?!” Stannis demanded.

“What sound?” Beric looked shifty.

“That sound!” Stannis narrowed his eyes. “That thudding! I’m lucky you even heard me over that banging noise!”

“Oh, that sound,” Beric turned toward the kitchen. “Um can I get you anything to drink? We have...” he took a peek in the refrigerator and sighed, “rum, beer or water.”

“I don’t want anything to drink,” Stannis crossed his arms. “I want to give a brief presentation on my five year plan, and I want to know what that sound is in case it would be safer to evacuate the building first.”

“Oh it’s nothing like that,” Beric flapped a hand. “We were just um...” his face was going unaccountably red.

“Moving furniture,” Thoros slouched in from the other room, finally making an appearance. “Oooh beer? Yes please.”

Beric raised an eyebrow.

“But moving furniture makes me thirsty!” Thoros smirked.

Davos started to blush as well.

“I’ll also have a beer, if it’s not too much trouble,” he mumbled. Beric sighed and got two beers and a water.

Stannis ignored them and started dragging the chairs in the living room into a semi-circle. He would stand against the far wall and give his presentation there, he decided.

“I guess we’ll have to move the furniture again once they leave,” Thoros yawned. 

Davos coughed.

“We’re very sorry to have disturbed you,” Davos said. “Stannis is just nervous about Friday, and wants everything to go smoothly. He was thinking about what you said Beric, and really took it to heart.”

Beric beamed at Stannis and Stannis tried to look appropriately grateful.

“If you could all sit here,” Stannis gestured to the chairs. They sat.

“Melisandre’s MCAT scores and grades in the first two years of medical school put her in the ninety-second percentile of prospective applicants. Seven of the ten best hospitals for emergency medicine in Westeros are in King’s Landing. By creating a graph based on distribution of applicants based on scores and rankings, I have calculated an eighty-six percent likelihood that she will stay in King’s Landing for residency,” Stannis paused. Beric opened his mouth to speak.

“If she does not,” Stannis continued doggedly, ignoring him, “the remaining three possibilities would be Sunspear, Oldtown and Hardhome. If she were to live in Oldtown, I would move there and work in Stormsend’s western office. If she were to live in Sunspear or Hardhome, I would spend Friday through Sunday with her, taking advantage of our corporate policy on working remotely.”

Beric lifted a finger. Stannis stoically avoided eye contact.

“Although elements of the plan remain flexible, we are tentatively planning for one child. She will finish her residency at thirty one, which leaves us with plenty of time for such... activities. Dragonstone has the best public school system of the King’s Landing districts, and of course any child would be a double legacy for King’s Landing Prep,” Stannis slowly exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“Are there any questions?”

“I think this is terrific,” Beric leaned forward earnestly. “Really, I think you’ve made such an amazing start...”

Beric kept talking, but Stannis lost the thread. START?! He’d done everything that Beric had asked for! He’d initiated an excruciatingly awkward conversation with the woman he was trying to convince to spend the rest of her life with him! What more did Beric want?!

“Um Stannis?” Davos asked tentatively.

“Yes?” Stannis came back to earth.

“Beric wants to know why so much of your stock portfolio is tied up in Stormsend Shipping?”

“How do you know what my stock portfolio is?” Stannis said suspiciously.

“I used my security clearance at work to pull your records,” Beric said brightly like this was a normal and not at all creepy thing to do.

“You can do that?” Thoros looked delighted.

“For just cause,” Beric said warningly.

“because there’s this asshole at work who I’m sure is committing tax fraud—“

“How is this a just cause?!” Stannis interrupted, sputtering.

“You want to marry Melisandre,” Beric pointed out. “She’s basically family. I would be remiss if I didn’t do a full investigation—“

“You lived down the street from me for my entire life!” Stannis snapped. “Longer than you’ve known Melisandre, certainly. How can you possibly think—“

“What Stannis means to say,” Davos jumped in soothingly, “is that he thought you had shared your concerns yesterday. He didn’t realize there would be a follow up.”

“I’m sorry Stannis,” Beric blinked owlishly. “I just thought you’d want to prepare for your financial future together as well. I mean if you don’t...”

“Of course I do!” Stannis protested, immediately feeling terrible. “You were saying you think my stock portfolio is over balanced toward Stormsend Shipping?”

Thoros had finished his beer and was spinning the bottle idly on the coffee table.

“This is boring,” he announced to nobody in particular.

“Employees at companies that provide stock options are often overexposed to their place of business.”

“I happen to think that a company that has outperformed the market in three of the past five years is worth investing in.”

“My price is three chickens.”

“...but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to diversify,” Stannis ground his teeth.

“Do you think I need to diversify my stock portfolio?” Davos said thoughtfully as they were driving home. It was pitch black, and the growl in Stannis’ stomach informed him that he had again missed dinner.

“Of course not,” Stannis scoffed. “Beric is being ridiculous. I never realized how obsessed he is with RULES.”

“Oh?” Davos said mildly. “Is that annoying for you?”

“Yes!” Stannis agreed whole-heartedly. “You’re allowed to adhere to the spirit of the law rather than the letter, you know? He’s so rigid and uptight!”

Davos blinked.

“....what is the makeup of your stock portfolio?” Stannis asked, seeing as Davis appeared to have lost the power of speech.

“Oh, you know, just everything in Stormsend.”

“Everything?!”

“Well yeah, the options vest and they just stack up.”

“...some diversification might not be the end of the world for you,” Stannis allowed. But that didn’t mean that Beric WASN’T being ridiculous.

“Stannis, come to bed,” Melisandre purred, much later that night. Stannis pinched the bridge of his nose and willed the figures on his screen to make sense again. He’d been researching and making trades for the better part of two hours, and he still thought his portfolio was too heavy on domestic industrials.

“I will in a minute,” he frowned as he considered some Volantene bonds. Low yielding, but low risk. Surely Beric couldn’t have any objection to—

“Stannis,” Melisandre’s voice dipped into sultry. “You haven’t even seen what I’m wearing.”

Stannis turned to look even as his mind registered that this was a mistake.

It was a dark purple silk nightie that dipped sinfully low, exposing the white swell of Melisandre’s breasts. Stannis gulped, and then through sheer force of will managed to turn his head back to the screen.

“You don’t like it?” Her voice dropped into a pout. Oh gods she was probably doing that thing with her lower lip that he secretly adored. What had he been thinking about? Volantene bonds?

“Fine I guess I’ll just take it off,” Melisandre drawled. 

Stannis squinted at the numbers on the screen. He was proposing in less than forty-eight hours! He needed to get this portfolio in order before work tomorrow morning and then drive back to the Riverlands tomorrow night, there was no other window left. He’d had to wait two months for a reservation at the Crossroads as it was. And the ring in his pocket was growing heavier by the day.

“Now I’m not wearing anything at all,” Melisandre said from the bed.

Stannis gave an audible groan and stood up.

“Going somewhere?” Melisandre said mischievously.

“Actually yes,” Stannis sighed. “I’m going to work in the living room.”

“Wait what?! STANNIS!”

“Are we sure there’s a difference between a stock and a bond?” 

“Yes, Davos, quite sure,” Stannis answered idly. They had left work a whole three hours early—being the boss did have some perks; and the traffic was nonexistent. “Would you mind calling Beric and letting him know our estimated time of arrival?”

“Good idea,” Davos muttered, and oddly blushed again. He pulled out his cell.

“Beric? Yep it’s Davos, I’m with Stannis... we’re on our way. About forty minutes out I would say? Thanks, see you then.”

Stannis nodded to himself. Everything would go perfectly this time. 

Everything did not go perfectly.

It started so well. Thoros promptly opened the door when they knocked. There were various pleasantries. They hadn’t moved the furniture again after all, because the chairs were still there in a semi-circle where Stannis had put them. 

Beric was very impressed by his presentation, and said he would probably be making some tweaks to his own portfolio as a result. Davos asked some questions that made Stannis wonder if they really shouldn’t give Stormsend employees some “Investment 101” classes, and Stannis made a mental note to explore further at a later date.

Then they finished and Beric actually applauded! Well, it was more like a golf clap, but it was Beric, so that was applause.

“So do I have your blessing?” Stannis asked Thoros hopefully.

“Four chickens,” Thoros said. Okay, not unexpected, Stannis turned to Beric still brimming with confidence that Beric would step in and tell his roommate/best friend/life partner to give his blessing.

“Just as soon as you sign this,” Beric replied cheerfully, gesturing to a document on the kitchen table. Stannis scratched his head. He’d seen it when he came in, but assumed it was one of Beric’s briefs for work because it was stacked approximately 90 pages high.

“Um, what is it?” 

“It’s a pre-nup,” Beric explained walking over. “I’ve tagged where you need to initial in yellow, and tabbed where you need to sign in green. Lucky for you I’m a notary. I assume you brought your driver’s license?”

“First, you know who I am, Beric,” Stannis huffed. “You could notarize on personal recognizance. Second, a pre-nup? Mel doesn’t have anything but student debt!”

“Oh you’ll be paying that off within a week of marriage, it’s dealt with in Section 5,” Beric sat down and flipped to that section. Stannis peeked over his shoulder. 

“And what else will I be doing,” Stannis growled.

“Well, King’s Landing divorce law provides that the spouse will get half the marital property in the event of divorce—that’s the property that you and she earn during the course of the marriage. But of course when you get married, you’ll have been together for ten years. And Stormsend Shipping has really made exponential strides under your management. The gist is that she’ll be entitled to half the marital property that you have earned since you began dating. But that’s just the financials of course. I also took the liberty of formalizing certain aspects of your five year plan, I’ve included a rider regarding exposure to obnoxious family members—“

“Oh?” Stannis said acidly, glaring at Thoros who had turned on a football game.

“Look it’s Robert!” Thoros said cheerfully pointing to the game.

“Yes, Robert’s in here,” Beric had his nose in the contract.

Stannis came to a grim realization. 

“No,” he said. Not rudely, just firmly.

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m not signing a contract to govern my marriage with Melisandre. That’s something I have to figure out with her as we go. By talking about it. Not because you stuck a contract in my face. I’m sorry, I appreciate all the work this took. Come on, Davos.”

Davos looked proud. Beric looked nonplussed. Thoros was still watching the game.

“Good evening,” Davos gave an awkward wave and then the two of them left, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Stannis collapsed agains the closed door, eyes squeezed shut.

“I know that was hard, but I think you did really well. Remember, this is Melisandre and you love each other and you don’t need some archaic ritual of approval to propose to her,” Davos began.

Stannis grabbed his arm to stop him, and cracked open one eye.

“Where in seven hells am I going to find four chickens?”

“I guess I could make some calls tomorrow—“

Stannis slid down the wall into a sitting position.

“I need them tonight.”

Davos sighed and sat down next to him.

“I’ll call Sal.”

It was ten at night by the time they pulled up to the farm, which appeared to be eerily abandoned.

“You’re sure this is legit,” Stannis hissed, as Davos began climbing the chain link fence.

“Sal said he had it all sorted. The owner’s out of town so he can’t let us in, but he texted the directions to the henhouse and the code to disable the alarm. We just need to grab four chickens and be on our way. And don’t forget to wire the money to Sal.”

“How are we going to get back over the fence with four chickens?!”

Davos considered the question.

“I think I can climb with one hand. If you hold the chickens on this side, I’ll climb them over one at a time and put them in the car.”

Stannis considered the answer. And then with the groan of someone at the very end of their rope, he followed Davos up the fence.

“I still think a thousand dollars is a bit steep for four chickens,” Stannis muttered as he landed with a soft squelch in some mud. He cast a dismayed look down at his best dress shoes. Or what were formerly his best dress shoes.

“Well you have to factor in the finder’s fee,” Davos responded as he squinted at the crudely drawn hand map of the premises that Sal had sent him. “This way,” Davos finally said uncertainly, gesturing with the feeble light of his cell phone to something that could generously described as a path.

Stannis held his tongue, reminding himself that it was not Davos’ fault they were in this predicament. And their luck did seem to be turning, for lo and behold, a chicken coop loomed in the darkness.

“So we just go in and grab two each?” Stannis squinted at the structure. There was a larger pen enclosed with mesh wiring, at which the coop stood in the center. The door to that was merely closed by a deadbolt from the outside. 

“It’s not supposed to be rocket science,” Davos shrugged, already jiggling the wiring open so they could pass through.

“It smells terrible in here,” Stannis whispered as they proceeded. He wasn’t exactly sure why he whispered but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this venture was not quite as above board as Davos was making it out to be. Maybe because Sal was involved. Stannis detested Sal, although he had never met him. From every anecdote that Davos had told, that was probably for the best.

“Just all the chicken shit,” Davos whispered back. Stannis looked sadly down at his dress shoes. He might have to burn them when this was over.

Davos unlatched the deadbolt and they stepped inside. It took a minute for Stannis’ eyes to adjust to the absolute darkness and his nose to adjust to the musty smell of chicken. They were some clucks of protestation as he took his own phone out, and the coop was dimly lit by two cell phones instead of one.

Sure enough, there were chickens nestled in bales of hay, chickens sluggishly pecking at the floor, a chicken peering down at him from rows upon rows of nests that had been constructed along one wall. The question wasn’t so much how to grab a chicken as which one. Stannis wondered if Thoros had some kind of chicken judgement criteria that affected the enthusiasm with which he gave his blessing. On further reflection, Stannis decided this was an all or nothing deal and he would take any blessing, no matter how tepidly given. He knelt down and scooped up one particularly lethargic looking hen.

“Look at all these eggs!” Davos whispered, and Stannis discovered with some alarm that Davos was making his way along the nests and scooping out eggs by the handful and putting them into his pockets. 

“Davos!” Stannis hissed. “We didn’t pay for any eggs! Put those back!”

“It’s a thousand dollars, Stannis, you’re clearly being ripped off. Besides, have you ever tasted a fresh egg? They’re loads better,” Davos continued stripping the nests of their bounty.

Stannis opened his mouth to give Davos a stern lecture on ethics and contractual obligations when a sound behind him caught his ear. Something between a squawk and a shriek. Stannis half turned, only to be ambushed in the face by a flailing mass of talons.

He staggered backward, striking at his opponent futilely and taking a number of gashes along his arms. He of course dropped the lethargic hen, who made a less than lethargic escape.

Finally he managed to grab his assailant by the neck and fling it across the room. The rooster landed in a bail of hay and then hopped upright, still making menacing noises.

“Davos!” Stannis called plaintively. The rooster shrieked again, covering the coop in three strides before springing at his face again with some kind of high jump kick attack. Stannis staggered backwards before tripping over a hen, landing hard on his butt. He had just enough time to locate his nemesis before the rooster attacked again, deftly dodging his swings to jump kick at him. Not only were the creature’s spurs gouging rents in his jacket, he’d drawn blood at least twice when Davos turned around.

“Get off the floor Stannis, it’s filthy...” Davos petered off as the rooster turned its beady black eyes on him. 

Stannis stiffly got to his feet, the sounds of Davos yelling and the bird shrieking behind him. He dusted himself off and looked around. There was a spare bit of plywood leaning against the wall of the coop and Stannis picked it up. Thus armed, he turned grimly back to the battle.

Davos and the rooster were furiously kicking at each other, the beam of light from Davos’ phone swinging wildly and giving their fight a flickering quality. He seemed to be faring marginally better than Stannis had (a low bar), but the rooster was gradually wearing his less agile opponent down.

Stannis marched forward, plywood shield held in front of him. Confronted with a second target, the rooster charged. There was a thud as he hit the plywood harmlessly. A pause. Then another thud. Stannis permitted himself a smirk.

Cautiously advancing forward, bumping the rooster backward each time, Stannis forced the rooster into retreat toward the back corner. On reaching their destination, he carefully leaned the plywood against the walls, trapping the rooster within. It gave a series of screeches, each more terrible than the last, but could do nothing.

“Right, well done. Grab your chickens,” Davos said, scooping up two hens near him. “I cannot wait to never set foot inside a henhouse again.”

Stannis personally would have liked to spend a bit more time dwelling on his victory, but Davos was sensible as always. No need to linger in this cursed place any longer. He put a chicken under each arm and they walked out into the night.

Hens were mercifully considerably calmer than roosters. If they objected to being carried about well past midnight, they did not voice said objections, only clucking sleepily amongst themselves. Stannis dared to hope that this ordeal might at last be over.

They rounded the bend.

There was a police car next to their own, headlights flooding the area, two officers jotting down their plate number and shaking their heads. Behind him, Davos had froze.

“We’re not hiding out on a farm from the police tomorrow—I mean today,” Stannis glanced after his watch. “I have to propose. C’mon.”

The officers were apologetic but firm. Some neighbors had reported a break in, and the owner of the farm was currently unreachable. Until they could confirm Stannis and Davos’ not entirely plausible story, they would need to come with them to the precinct. The chickens would have to stay.

Stannis looked on sadly as the chickens were ushered back to their dwelling place. Now he was going to prison. Great.

“I’ll call Sal,” Davos said as they were stuck in the back of the police car. No handcuffs thankfully. “He’ll sort this out.”

Personally, Stannis thought Sal had done QUITE ENOUGH already. 

“I’ll call Beric. He’ll know who to talk to at the station,” Stannis sighed.

Beric had been asleep, but upon hearing the situation, promised he would be over as soon as he could. (This was between whisper shouting at Thoros that he’d told him it wasn’t funny, and you know how Stannis is, of course he’d take it seriously, don’t you dare go back to sleep this is your mess too!)

Sal had not been asleep, and promised to get in touch with the farmer in question as soon as possible, although there were some time zone issues that meant it might be an hour or two.

At the precinct headquarters, they were forced to turn in Davos’ backpack and the contents of their pockets.

“Please be careful with that,” Stannis said nervously, eyeing the ring. He’d taken it out of the box so it would fit better in his pocket (and maybe not weigh quite as much), but now he regretted that decision.

Fortunately the officer at the desk was a young woman with a ring of her own on her left hand.

“Don’t worry,” she gave him a smile. “I think it’s beautiful.”

“You don’t think it’s too heavy?” Stannis asked.

“NEXT IN LINE!” Barked the officer behind him, who was neither young nor a woman.

They were ushered into a cell that was quite large, but empty except for themselves and a fat man snoring on a bench some yards distant. The smell, however, was not an improvement on the chicken coop.

Stannis buried his head in his arms. He was in prison and he was supposed to propose to Melisandre in... he checked his watch... sixteen hours.

“Cheer up,” Davos nudged him. “At least we’re basically alone in here. I saw a guy get stabbed in a drunk tank once!”

Stannis contemplated curling into a ball.

After two hours of utter monotony, punctuated only by the soft snores of their unknown companion, several things happened at once.

The door back to the front desk opened slightly as an officer backed up against it. With the door cracked, Melisandre’s raised voice cut through the silence like a scalpel.

“You heard the man on the phone, it was a misunderstanding! How are they still in there?! So help me Lord, I will sue you for intentional infliction of emotional distress! My brother’s boyfriend is a lawyer you know!”

“They do know Mel, I have to work with these people every day and they know I don’t do that type of law,” Beric voice was saying calmly and placatingly.

“Who’s side are you on?!” Melisandre wheeled on him. 

“Your side of course,” Beric said quickly.

“I want them out!! YESTERDAY!” Melisandre howled.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down and step back,” said the officer backed against the door.

“Are you threatening her?!” That was Thoros.

“Are you THREATENING ME?!” That was Melisandre.

“Pahl, this farmer guy gave his identification number and his social security number. Everything checks out,” another voice shouted over them.

“Thank the gods,” Pahl groaned, sagging against the door, pushing it open even further.

Stannis slowly got to his feet as Melisandre came running down the hallway.

“There you are,” she said, wrapping her hands around the bars of the cell.

“Here I am,” he gave her a wan smile, and wrapped his hands around hers.

“I was so scared when you didn’t come home last night, I must’ve called Thoros like thirty times. He called me to let me know that you were okay and what happened, and then I couldn’t just lie in bed knowing you were sitting in a holding cell somewhere!”

“It’s fine, I’m happy to see you,” Stannis squeezed her hands. “I just didn’t want to trouble you to drive all the way out here.”

She leaned through the bars and kissed him, and Stannis was thinking that drunk tanks weren’t so bad after all when the officer cleared his throat.

“So do you just want to make out or do you want me to let you gents out?”

“Out please,” Davos said immediately from behind them.

Melisandre laughed and stepped back and then they were out.

“How on earth did you get picked up in the middle of nowhere Riverlands, trespassing on some guy’s property that you technically had permission to be on? Did you really have permission to her there? Or did Sal just hack into the government website and rip off the guy’s identity and call pretending to be him? Did you know the government has everything on file? Beric showed me once, it’s quite scary,” Melisandre was rambling as they walked down the hall and back to the check in station.

“Your backpack,” the lady officer handed Davos his backpack, unzipped. “Why is it full of eggs?”

Davos blushed and mumbled something about providing for seven.

“And here you go,” the officer handed Stannis an open envelope with a wink. Stannis saw Melisandre glancing over and lunged for the envelope, their hands colliding in midair. There was an exclamation of surprise, something gold falling through the air, a metallic sound as it bounced, and then Stannis was on the ground with the ring in his hands. He turned with relief, only to see Melisandre staring down at him in utter surprise.

Stannis looked down at the ring and then back up at Melisandre. Oh. Shit.

“It’s not supposed to be this way,” Stannis said forlornly. Melisandre lifted an eyebrow. “I mean...” he backtracked hastily. “It was supposed to be tonight. On the cliffs. At sunset.”

Was she mad? Disappointed? He scanned her face desperately. But as always, her features were an impassive mask.

“You mean you weren’t planning on proposing to me on the floor of a police precinct at three in the morning?” Melisandre asked drily, and he saw just a spark of joy peeking out at him.

“No,” he felt a stupidly large grin spreading across his face. “Melisandre Asshai, will you marry me?”

“I think I’d better,” Melisandre said matter of factly. “You’re clearly hopeless without me.”

And then she had flung herself into his arms, and Stannis was left looking at the ring and wondering how he was supposed to get it on her finger when she was hugging him like he might die at any moment. It wasn’t until she gave a rather phlegmy sniffle that he realized she was crying.

“What’s wrong?” He asked alarmed. “Was this not good enough? We can do it over tonight, I’ll get it right this time, don’t be sad...”

He trailed off as she put a finger to his lips.

“I’m happy you idiot,” she gave him a watery smile. “I thought you were breaking up with me.”

“Wait what?!” Stannis spluttered. “Why?!”

“Oh I don’t know,” Melisandre had clearly retained enough of her acerbic wit to snark. “Maybe because three days ago you were acting all weird and intense and quizzing me about the future. And then two days ago you refused to have sex with me—“

“I knew there was an issue,” Thoros audibly whispered to Beric

“—and then last night you didn’t come home at all! I thought you were having second thoughts about us, about me,” Melisandre admitted In a rush. Stannis seized the momentary pause to capture her hand, which had been until this point been flirting from gesture to gesture. Now stilled, he put the ring on.

“I wasn’t having second thoughts about us,” Stannis said firmly. “I wanted to get Thoros’ blessing to ask for your hand. And Beric said I needed a five year plan, which is why I was asking you all those question. And then he had concerns about my financial planning, which is why I had to stay up all night fixing my portfolio.”

“Stannis,” Melisandre stared at him. “Why on earth would I care about those things?”

“But Beric said...”

“Beric is dating THOROS. He probably does need a five year plan! Because Thoros’ life is like a series of trust falls where he assumes everything’s going to be fine. And he definitely needs a retirement plan, because I’m pretty sure Thoros still keeps all his money in a suitcase under his bed.”

“I do not!” Thoros yelped, although from Beric’s raised eyebrow that might not have been entirely truthful.

“My point is that Thoros is completely useless at this stuff—“

“I’m right here!”

“—but I’m not. You don’t need to worry so much,” Melisandre kissed him.

“Right,” Stannis blushed. “In retrospect that makes a lot of sense.”

“But you do need to tell me why you didn’t come home last night,” Melisandre poked him in the chest.

“Right,” Stannis swallowed. “Thoros said he would give me his blessing for four chickens, so Davos called Sal to get us four chickens but we had to pick them up, and then some neighbors thought we were burglars and we got arrested,” he said in a rush.

There was a long pause, Melisandre’s face perfectly blank as she absorbed this. And then her brow furrowed, a single wrinkle creasing her forehead.

“Thoros said... what?!” Her voice dipped dangerously.

“That he would give me his blessing for four chickens?”

“Um,” Thoros started to sidle backwards. “It is and it isn’t. That’s out of context and I was mostly j—“

“YOU SOLD ME FOR FOUR CHICKENS?!”

“Technically I sold my blessing for four chickens?” Thoros kept backing away. “I’ll admit it’s a subtle distinction.”

Melisandre screamed. And then she grabbed Davos’ backpack of eggs.

“I’LL GIVE YOU FUCKING CHICKENS ASSHOLE,” she started pelting him. Thoros ran for the parking lot, Melisandre in hot pursuit, slinging eggs the entire way.

Stannis, Davos and Beric stared.

“So um, congrats?” Davos offered.

Stannis beamed.

“Thank you.”

“Congratulations, Stannis,” Beric immediately shook off his distraction and gave Stannis a hearty handshake. “I feel terrible that we’ve caused you all this headache—there’s a good 24-hour diner down the street near the courthouse? My treat? Your first meal as an engaged couple!”

Davos’ stomach growled audibly.

“Breakfast sounds perfect, thank you Beric,” Stannis admitted.

Later, as they were all squished in to the booth at the diner (Beric eating an egg-white omelette, Thoros eating a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes extra syrup, Melisandre eating a long stack of chocolate chip pancakes extra syrup, Davos eating a loaded breakfast scramble and Stannis enjoying a quite passable breakfast sandwich), Stannis watched the sun come up.

The natural light did not do them any favors. Both he and Davos reeked of manure, and Davos had some stubble growing in. Thoros’ already messy hair was matted with egg yolk. Beric’s one good eye had had a circle under it, and Stannis kept finding feathers on his person. Melisandre looked... he turned to her, and she smiled, mouth full of pancakes. Perfect. 

Melisandre looked perfect, as the dawn broke on their first day as an engaged couple. And Stannis reflected that it was possible to get engaged by accident after all. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
